


paid vacation

by oh_no_oh_dear



Series: tungle dot hell [14]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Kissing, Little Bit Of Plot Whole Lot Of Porn, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Sex Toys, Trans Male Character, also featuring TERRIBLE JOKES, and it's smut y'all. and it's smut y'all. and it's smu-smu-smu and it's smut y'all.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 07:34:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11939346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_no_oh_dear/pseuds/oh_no_oh_dear
Summary: Prompt: "Sam/Steve + giggly sex"At least I didn't have to scream-type the sex this time! Improvement.





	paid vacation

**Author's Note:**

> NOTE: Sam is trans and the fic makes reference to his 'clit.' I know this is hella subjective for folks, so I'm just giving a heads up!

Most people counted down the hours until their lunch break. Sam Wilson, on the other hand, was impatiently watching the clock on the breakroom wall tick down until the remainder of his lunch time was finally over. He had way too much work to do, dammit, and he’d long eaten the lunch that Steve had lovingly packed him-- leftover curry, some fruit and a bag of chips (god bless that man.)   
  
It was only because Christine, his boss, had half-threatened to fire him if he didn’t starting taking his proper lunch breaks that he wasn’t already back in his office, hunched over his laptop and fielding the usual barrage of calls that he had every day at the VA.   
  
Sam Wilson: part-time counsellor, part-time Avenger, occasional backup Defender, full-time boyfriend of Captain freakin’ America, and 100% exhausted.  
  
And there was another problem.

Well, it wasn’t a  _problem_  as such-- he just... they--  
  
Well, they hadn’t had sex yet. Which wasn’t _bad_ , it wasn’t a problem, and Steve was perfectly happy with whatever Sam wanted, but what Sam wanted was  _Steve_ , and the entire world seemed intent on cockblocking him. The. Entire. World.   
  
They’d been together for almost 2 years, and hadn’t gotten much further than sucking each other off (if they had the time and/or energy) and then falling asleep. Which, again-- great-- but Sam was ready for more. Had been ready for more for a while, but...  
  
There was the Helicarriers, and then  
the search for Barnes, and   
_finding_  Barnes, which had put the kibosh on everyone’s libidos what with all the angst and emotion swirling around, and  _then_  
Harlem had gone absolutely nuts and he’d had to spend a few months back home with a new group of heroes (no, shut up, he didn’t have a crush on Luke Cage. maybe a small one. tiny. Sam had a thing for guys that could pick him up without breaking a sweat, okay?)  
and then the VA had called, swarmed with client requests to have Falcon be their personal counsellor, and   
Steve had been properly elected leader of the Avengers, which meant even more paperwork and less time at home, and  
Sam’s mother had gotten ill, so he was in and out of hospital until she’d recovered enough to go home, and  
  
all that led to Sam and Steve exchanging uncoordinated sleepy kisses and passing out in a half-undressed tangle of limbs almost every night. The only reason they got to see each other much at all was their phones; texting and video chatting pretty much every day was their lifeline to each other.  
  
Today, Sam hadn’t even finished closing his office door before someone knocked, the phone rang, and he got an email alert. And it was only 1:00.

* * *

   
    “Steve?” Sam croaked later, easing the bedroom door open. It had been a nightmare day, with one particular client running long because he was pouring his heart out and Sam hadn’t had the heart to stop him when his time was over—which pushed back all the _other_ appointments, too.  
  
Only a sleepy grunt answered Sam, and he smiled tiredly. No matter how deep in sleep Steve was, Sam’s voice always got some kind of response from him. Truthfully, Sam had been hoping that Steve might be awake, for—reasons. Instead, he took a quick hot shower, yanked on his favourite soft sweatpants, and crawled into bed. He startled slightly when Steve moved, his warm arms slipping around him to pull him into a close embrace. Steve nuzzled his neck, humming low in his throat and Sam went a little warm in the face. They really couldn’t get into this now—they both had to get up early the next morning (they always had to get up early in the morning,) but _god_ it felt so good to have Steve’s lips skimming his skin, peppering the side of his neck with kisses.  
  
    “Missed you,” Steve murmured. Sam huffed out a soft laugh. Steve hated wearing anything to bed because he ran hot, so it was pretty damn obvious what was on his mind. _Maybe we can manage a quick handjob before bed_ , Sam amended.  
  
    “I can tell,” Sam answered, playfully running his fingers along the shaft of Steve’s already semi-hard cock. He allowed himself a moment of satisfaction when Steve took a sharp breath in. It didn’t take much to get him off, especially when it came to Sam.  
  
    “’M hungry,” Steve said next. Which was… an odd thing to say.  
  
    “You didn’t eat dinner?” Sam asked, frowning. Steve was a workaholic, but the man never missed a meal unless the world was literally about to end.  
  
    “I ate earlier. I meant I was hungry for a _Samwich,_ ” Steve said. His voice was barely controlled; it was obvious that he’d been waiting to make that joke for ages now. Sam snorted with laughter, his hand still loosely wrapped around Steve’s dick. The man was such a fool sometimes.  
“Can we stay up late tonight?” Steve half-whispered. His husky voice went straight to Sam’s groin. They’d tried this before, but one or both of them usually dozed off or lost the mood due to exhaustion; even on their rare days off together they mostly napped and caught up on housework, seeing friends, or— _sigh—_ extra work.  
  
    “Steve,” Sam breathed, leaving it at that. _God,_ he wanted him, but he really couldn’t stay up more than maybe 10 minutes more, tops--  
  
    “I got the day off tomorrow,” Steve was saying now, not pressing, just—hopeful. Sam sighed.  
  
    “I know, baby, but I don’t.”  
  
    “I guess it was a long shot,” Steve said ruefully. Sam’s eyes had adjusted to the darkness and he could see Steve smile a little wanly. Another lost opportunity.  
  
Unless.  
  
Unless—  
  
    “Fuck it,” Sam said, pulling Steve into a kiss. The other man groaned into Sam’s mouth, immediately pulling him as close as he could. Fuck it, Sam had been a perfect employee. And sure, he’d be bleary-eyed and probably slow as fuck tomorrow at work, but he’d blame it on lack of coffee.  
  
    “Are you s-sure?” Steve asked, his voice hitching as Sam pressed their hips together with a low moan.  
“I don’t think they’ll pay you for this kinda overtime,” he said teasingly. Sam groaned in a different way now, swatting at Steve’s shoulder.  
  
    “You’re so fucking _corny_ ,” he laughed. Steve kissed him soundly again, smiling against his lips. He loved making Sam laugh.  
  
    “I’m sure it’ll be fine tomorrow. Probably. Maybe.” Sam sounded a little less sure the more he spoke—and he hadn’t had sex in so long—and it was _Steve,_ the man he loved so much it would scare him if he didn’t regularly punch danger in the face—and suddenly, Sam was pulling away. He felt like his stomach was an icy pit. He was gonna fuck this up, it’d been too long, he was probably out of practice, and he was worried about work the next morning, and he probably wasn’t as athletic or, uh, durable as Steve—  
  
    “I can hear you thinking,” Steve said softly. He hadn’t held onto Sam when his boyfriend had moved away, opting instead to sit up and flick on the bedside lamp.  
“You okay? Was it—too fast?”  
  
    “It’s been 2 years.”  
  
    “What’s that got to do with anything?”  
  
God, Sam loved this man.  
  
    “I’m just stressed about work.”  
  
    “No one works as hard as Sam Wilson,” Steve smiled. He wanted to reach out and smooth a comforting hand down Sam’s shoulder, but he made himself stop.  
  
    “And…” Sam continued in a small voice that Steve wasn’t at all used to hearing from him.  
  
    “And?” Steve gently prodded.  
  
    “And I’m. A little bit nervous about having sex,” Sam said in a rush. Steve didn’t laugh or scoff, just nodding slowly.  
  
    “Is there anything… can I do anything?” he asked, fumbling a little.  
  
    “I don’t know. I gotta—I’m gonna have some tea. Check my email.”  
  
    “Sam, it’s almost midnight.”  
  
    “I know, but I’m too awake now…”  
  
    “I’m sorry, Sam.”  
  
    “Don’t—no. ‘S not anyone’s fault. It’s okay, I’m just more alert at night anyway. You know that,” Sam said, trying to grin reassuringly.  
  
    “True. You are a _night owl._ ”  
  
    “Ugh.”  
  
    “Get it? Because Falcon? Birds? Owl?”  
  
    “I can’t stand you,” Sam muttered, leaning to kiss Steve’s cheek before he slipped out of bed. He felt on edge, wanting Steve, wanting it to be _so good,_ but the worry about work and the pressure he’d put on himself was conspiring against him.  
  
The hardwood was warm against his feet, the living room slightly stifling from the trapped heat of late summer. Sam heaved a long, drawn-out sigh and anxiously drummed his fingers against the countertop while he waited for the kettle. He felt like his skin was buzzing, his every thought honed on the man still laying tangled in their bedsheets.  
  
But work needed him more than he needed dick. Or so he told himself.  
  
He squinted in the bright light of his laptop screen as his tea cooled next to him. As soon as he logged into his email, his stomach dropped.  
  
**[[URGENT: OPEN AT ONCE]]**  
  
Fuck, shit, shit, he’d missed an emergency because he’d been distracted. He glanced at his phone. No missed calls, but--  
  
**_Sam!  
  
You didn’t fill out your vacation days like I told you LAST MONTH. You’re owed like 2 weeks and summer’s almost over. What the hell? We don’t have the budget to pay your overeager ass--_**  
  
Sam smiled. He really loved his boss.  
  
**\-- _so you’re off. Summer pay. Two weeks. Starting tomorrow.  
  
I’m serious.  
  
If I see you at work tomorrow trying to sneak home any cases to work on, I will drag you back to your apartment myself.  
  
\- Christine Yu_**  
  
He bit his lip. She knew him too well; he had already been planning to take home some of the easier files so that he could work from home. As he stared at the screen, a little messenger bubble popped up.  
  
**C. YU (Get It?)** : Samuel Thompson Wilson why r u awake  
**C. YU (Get It?)** : what the fuck is that screen name  
  
**Star Spangled Sam With A Plan** : It’s “Thomas” not Thompson  
**Star Spangled Sam With A Plan** : idk, Steve chose it and he thinks it's hilarious  
  
**C. YU (Get It?)** : yeah it sounds like something a centenarian would find funny. anyway answer the question, y r u up so late  
  
**Sam the Man** : I was just checking my email. Couldn’t sleep  
  
**C. YU (Get It?)** : Did you see that I’m kicking your ass into vacation mode  
  
**Star Spangled Sam With A Plan** : I did!  
**Star Spangled Sam With A Plan** : Thanks! I think. Are you sure you have enough people to cover my group sessions?  
  
**C. YU (Get It?)** : Oh NO OH SHIT SHIT

 **Star Spangled Sam With A Plan** : what what happened  
  
**C. YU (Get It?)** : I’ve been doing this for FIFTEEN YEARS and I totally forgot how to do my job and no one is scheduled to take over for you omg fuuuuck  
  
**Star Spangled Sam With A Plan** : Christine are you messing with me  
  
**C. YU (Get It?)** : ya  
  
**Star Spangled Sam With A Plan** says: You’re so unprofessional :P  
  
**C. YU (Get It?)** : that’s why I’m COOOOOOOL  
**C. YU (Get It?)** : anyway I’m going to bed because UNLIKE YOU I gotta get up early in the morning  
**C. YU (Get It?)** : that was my subtle way of reminding you not to even try sneaking in here. Take your damn vacation, you earned it  
  
**Star Spangled Sam With A Plan** : Thanks. Seriously. You’re the best.  
  
**C. YU (Get It?)** : I know ;P  
  
_** **C. YU (Get It?)** HAS LOGGED OFF**_  
  
_Well._  
  
Sam’s cup of tea sat forgotten on the table as he padded back to their bedroom.  
  
  
  
  
Steve was still awake, half propped-up against the headboard as he scrolled sleepily through articles on his tablet. Sam felt a rush of affection; he knew that Steve always slept better when Sam was curled up beside him (or half-splayed across him, as he seemed to prefer.)  
  
    “That was fast,” Steve said, smiling up at Sam. “You’re usually answering emails for at least another hour.”  
  
Sam suddenly felt almost too excited to talk. They could—he could— _finally._  
  
    “Uh, I got an interesting email from Christine,” he said, trying to keep his voice light and casual. Steve set down his tablet, frowning slightly.  
  
    “You gotta go in early?” he asked, already looking worried. Sam shook his head as he walked around the bed to Steve’s side.  
"You… gotta stay late?” Steve continued, raising an eyebrow as Sam smiled slow and sweet.  
  
    “Guess again.” And with that, Sam was straddling Steve’s lap and leaning in so that their lips were barely brushing. Steve immediately took Sam in his arms, a knowing smirk spreading across his face now.  
  
    “Kinda _hard_ to think right now, Sam,” Steve said, knowing damn well Sam would roll his eyes and groan (he didn’t disappoint.)  
  
    “You didn’t even try with that one,” Sam muttered against Steve’s lips. His heart was going a million beats a minute, and his hands were just a little unsteady when he raised them to bury them in Steve’s messy hair. Steve made a little sound of want, but he still pulled away slightly, his eyes searching Sam’s face.  
  
    “Sam…”  
  
    “Hmm?”  
  
    “We don’t have to do this tonight, you know. It’s not—” Steve seemed to steady himself, making Sam feel even more anxious for a second— “it’s not… _owl or nothin’_.”  
  
Sam burst out laughing, a real, genuine laugh that took them both by surprise. “You for real held on to another bird joke until _now_?” Sam said, more in love than ever. Steve had sensed he was tense, of course, and had helped ease his nerves a little.  
  
    “Do my bad jokes make you wanna _fly the coop,_ darlin?”  
  
    “Will you shut up and fuck me?”  
  
Steve’s face changed from teasing to heavy-lidded anticipation in a second. It made Sam dizzy with want.  
“You sure?” he asked anyway, his hands rubbing circles against Sam’s bare back.  
  
    “I’m s- I’m sure.”  
  
    “Tell me what you want,” Steve said softly. His pupils were blown wide, his cheeks touched with pink as he raised his hand to touch Sam’s cheek. Sam’s eyes were warm and dark in the low lamplight, his soft lips slightly parted and his breath coming just a little heavy. _Fuck,_ Steve wanted him. He’d wanted him for years, but it had never been the right time and he hadn’t wanted to pressure Sam.  
  
    “I want…” Sam said in a near-whisper. Steve leaned forward a little, not wanting to miss anything Sam said.  
“I want… you to stop making terrible bird jokes,” Sam said huskily. It was Steve’s turn to burst out laughing, even as he surged forward to kiss Sam’s smiling mouth.  
  
    “No promises,” he said, mock-stern. He slipped his hands under Sam’s thighs and gave them a little squeeze, turning Sam’s breathy laugh into a soft groan. “Can I?”  
  
Sam nodded and let out a small yelp of surprise when Steve flipped them so that Sam was on his back, Steve leaning over him. Sam reached for Steve, who acquiesced and moved closer to fit his mouth to Sam’s. This wasn’t anything new—they’d kissed, touched, rubbed, but this felt different. Sam was panting needy and hot into his mouth, his hands moving restlessly all over Steve’s back. Steve could feel his pulse, racing under his hand when he pressed his hand to Sam’s chest.  
  
    “What do you want, Sam?” he asked again, not joking now. Sam looked gorgeous, his lips pouting just so and the lightest sheen of sweat making his skin glow under the golden-yellow light of the lamp.  
  
    “Just—you. Steve, please.”  
  
Steve nodded once and then leaned down again to kiss Sam’s beautiful mouth, to nose along his jawline and nip at that one spot on his neck that always made him moan, to tongue gently at a hard nipple and hear Sam’s soft whine. He couldn’t help a small groan himself when he felt Sam’s fingers slip into his hair, tightening his grip when Steve did something he particularly liked.  
“Sam, I wanna taste you,” he murmured against Sam’s stomach. He felt the muscles twitch when Sam took a breath in.  
  
    “Yeah,” he said, his voice slightly strained. If he was anywhere near as on edge as Steve was, this might not even last long. He took his time pulling down Sam’s sweatpants, already licking his lips in anticipation. He loved giving Sam head, and now he could spend as long as he wanted. They had no morning rush, no hasty goodbye kisses as they dashed off to their separate jobs.  
  
Sam lifted his hips to urge Steve along in pulling down the damn pants already, and Steve quit teasing and leaned forward to barely flick his tongue against Sam. Sam—arched; he was already wet and hard from Steve’s slow pace and Steve wasn’t gonna make him wait any more.  
  
    “Ah—!” Sam cut off a moan with a gasp because _Jesus Christ_ Steve’s mouth felt exquisite, hot and relentless against his clit. Steve hummed a question, probably checking on Sam, but Sam just pressed his hands against Steve’s head and stuttered out a “Y-yeah, that’s good.”  
  
Steve’s hands gently urged Sam’s legs further apart; he was eager to taste Sam more, drag more of those delicious sounds out of him. Soft, almost silent sighs. Deep guttural moans. The quiet swearing. The way he breathed Steve’s name. Steve himself was unconsciously rutting against the mattress, his hard cock aching for the friction as he worked Sam loose-limbed and light-headed.  
  
It was all building--  
  
kind of--  
  
    “ _Fu-uuuuck,”_ Steve hissed suddenly, gripping Sam’s thighs as his own orgasm blindsided him. The taste, the smell, the feel of Sam against his tongue—that had been more than enough to send him over the edge.  
“I—sorry—fuck—” he gasped, even as his cock pulsed helplessly. Sam just sat up with a massive effort and smoothed his fingers through Steve’s hair, breathing hard as Steve shuddered against his legs.  
  
    “Don’t be sorry, what the fuck,” Sam said. His voice was a little raspy and beads of sweat glistened on his forehead and chest as he continued to stroke Steve’s hair, bringing him down.  
  
    “I know you – wanted me to…” Steve’s words were coming a little easier now, but Sam just grinned.  
  
    “You still can, dumbass,” he chuckled. He ran a finger along the sensitive shell of Steve’s ear just to make him shiver, letting them both catch their breath for a few minutes. There was no rush this time. When he moved again, it was to root around in the top drawer of the bedside table.  
  
    “Oh— _ohhh._ Hey, let me—” Steve caught on and got to his feet with no small amount of struggle (his legs were still wobbly.) He took over from Sam and easily ripped open the thick plastic packaging of the dildo they’d never gotten around to using, tossing it onto the bed alongside their mostly-full bottle of lube.  
“You ready?” he asked softly. Sam bit his lip, but nodded; Steve took up the toy and then hesitated, frowning.  
  
    “What’s wrong? Sam asked, slightly nervous.  
  
    “I’m just wondering how mad you’ll be if I make a _cock of the walk_ joke right now,” Steve said seriously. For what felt like the hundredth time that night, Sam laughed at Steve’s ridiculousness and felt himself relax again.  
“I’m gonna run this under some warm water,” Steve said, leaning in to kiss Sam again. “Why don’t you get yourself ready for the purple people eater—”  
  
    “If you don’t stop that _right now_ I’m gonna lose my hardon altogether,” Sam said, hardly able to get the words out through another fit of giggles. He watched Steve leave the room, easy and confident in his nudity, and his mind settled back on the task at hand (so to speak.)  
  
He let his eyes drift closed, caught up in the sensation of rubbing and stroking, feeling the slick wetness between his fingers and thinking of Steve’s tongue again--  
  
    “I’m really glad I have a damn near photogenic memory,” Steve suddenly said from nearby. Sam wasn’t startled, merely opening his eyes to give Steve a heavy, sultry look from under his lashes.  
“You look so good like that, Sam,” he murmured. Sam just hummed, a low throaty sound that had Steve’s spent cock twitching with renewed interest.  
  
    “C’mere,” Sam sighed almost dreamily, one side of his mouth quirking in a small smile. “And no stupid jokes.”  
  
Steve didn’t have any smartass comments this time, too distracted watching Sam touch himself as Steve shuffled closer.  
“I—” he chewed his lower lip briefly, visibly hesitant for the first time, “do you want to? Uh—”  
  
    “Hmm?”  
  
    “Should I—?”  
  
    “Should you…” Sam drawled, letting his legs fall open and grinning even wider when Steve let out a harsh breath, clearly wanting Sam again. If Sam had known Steve liked watching him get himself off, their evenings would have been a lot more interesting.  
“Okay, let me just… there,” Sam moaned as the smooth tip of the dildo teased at his entrance. “O-okay. That’s—good. Steve?”  
  
Steve was focused entirely on Sam’s hand wrapped around his, guiding his movements.  
  
    “Steve. Baby.  _Steve._ ”  
  
    “Oh—yeah? Sorry, want to stop, or—”  
  
    “No, Rogers. Just do _this_ with your wrist, real slow and _oh_ , yeah—yeah, like that. Fuck. _Fuck._ Come kiss me wh-while you do… that?”  
  
    “Yeah,” Steve said softly, copying the gentle shallow thrusts Sam had demonstrated with the dildo while carefully leaning down to share a deep kiss with Sam. Sam moaned, his back arching just a little, and breathed _“Harder_ ” shakily against Steve’s lips. Steve complied and just watched Sam for a while, the way he bit his lower lip hard and moved his head from side to side on the pillow, his entire body taut like a bowstring, snatches of sound falling from his parted lips on every exhale— _ahh, ahh, ahh—  
  
_     “Sam,” Steve said, his voice rough and low with _want_ now, “I wanna get my mouth on you again.” Sam just let out a wrecked-sounding _“Yes”_ in response and Steve wasted no time manoeuvring himself into position. Sam was hard, his muscles tensed because he was so, so close and suddenly all Steve wanted to do was see, feel, hear Sam come apart. He lay flat on the bed between Sam’s legs and lapped at his wetness, even curling his tongue around the silicone as he eased it in at out of Sam and— _fuck,_ Steve was hard again but he ignored it. This was about Sam, had always been about Sam.   
  
    “ _Fuck!”_ Sam gasped when Steve slid a finger on either side of his clit, leaned in, and _sucked._ Steve _hmm?_ ed, but Sam just bunched the bedsheet in his fist, unable to speak because the pleasure lancing through him was like—like cold lightning, from the tips of his toes to his head. He might die like this, some dim part of him thought. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d needed this, how much he’d wanted Steve and he was so. Fucking. Close.  
“F-f-too m-much,” Sam managed and Steve immediately eased to more friendly flicks of his tongue, his eyes watching Sam’s face. Sam’s breaths came in harsh hiccups now; he sounded like he was breathing in, and in, and in, and—

    “ _Oh,_ ” Steve breathed as he watched Sam’s orgasm crash over him. He was really _really_ glad he had an excellent memory.  
  
\------------

    “Hope y’know this ‘s a priv’lege, R’gers,” Sam murmured, already half-asleep. Steve loved Sam always, but he especially loved him like this—blissfully heavy-limbed and utterly without worry. Sam hummed with pleasure as Steve’s fingers made little circles against his scalp, passing over the soft whorls of his hair.  
  
    “I know, Sam. I’m grateful for the opportunity,” Steve said, slumped inelegantly in bed next to Sam. His leg dangled half off the bed, but he didn’t think he’d be moving for the next few hours.  
  
    “’s like Solange. Nuh touch… hair…” Sam’s voice tailed off as he finally drifted off, tucked against Steve’s chest.  
  
Steve was almost asleep himself when Sam suddenly jerked awake, snuffling a little.  
“Wait wait wait, I had something to tell you,” he croaked into the darkness. Steve blinked tiredly, pulling Sam closer.  
  
    “What’s wrong?”  
  
    “Steve, I just wanted to say… _that was a hoot._ ”  
  
    “Oh my god.”  



End file.
